Thursday, April 9, 2009

Ribes in Bloom




Remember those buds waiting in the rain for the sun to come out? Well, the sun shone for four wonderful days (including a weekend) and my Ribes x gordonianum is now in flower. Red buds gave way to star shaped yellow-orange blooms.  I am a sucker for this two toned effect. The flowers from a distance are warm and peachy.  Our own native Ribes sanguineum is one of the parents, but after doing a little research online I found the other parent listed as  R. odoratum and R. petraeum. I'll have to do some more digging; either way it is a beautiful plant. 
Winter currants are in bloom all over.  Ribes sanguineum is covered in clusters ranging from light to dark lipstick pink. There is also a white one called 'Icicle' which is lovely. I think it looks great with many of the blue flowered spring bloomers like Brunnera and Pulmonaria planted underneath. Currants are a favorite with both the resident Anna and the visiting Rufous hummingbirds.  They dart in and out of the blooms with full springtime abandon. 

Friday, April 3, 2009

Happy Accidents

Just now I'm excited about a show of color in my front bed which is at least as much accident as plan. Sure, I chose the plants and planted them, but I have to admit I anticipated only a part of what eventually happened.  In order to create just the right combination in a client's garden, I have spent hours pouring over books and notes, looking up a plant online to see what it looks like at various times of year. Sometimes the plans come easily, other times, either because of constraints like shade, blazing afternoon sun, or the knowledge that the maintenance will be sporadic, they come after much deliberation and research.  


Then there are the situations like my front bed.  When I found that evergreen shrub Distylium myricoides at a nursery I bought it because it is in the Hamamelis family. I love this plant family almost without exception, and those that I don't love I still like and would invite into my garden.  I had never run across or heard of Distylium, and it was an evergreen, which I was in the market for.  I took it home and planted it not far from its lovely cousin Hamamelis x intermedia 'Jalena', Witch Hazel.  Nearby was an established, if dormant, clump of Hackonecloa macra 'Aureola', Japanese forest grass and a Paeonia mlokosewitschii, Peony Molly-the-Witch.  A few more of winter's grey months passed and the garden started to wake up.  The Hackonecloa and the Peony pushed up through the earth. The dark, wet mulch helping to show off their beautiful new leaves.

When Paeonia mlokosewitchii (a mouthful) emerges starting in March her leaves and stems are a deep pinky brown and they break out of leaf sheaths that are darker still.  They are lovely and robust and look wonderful when the rain drops collect in the still curled up leaf bases. A good thing given that the rain has no intention of stopping any time soon. The blades of the Hackonecloa are spiky at first as they poke out of the ground surrounded by last years dry, cut back stems. Their vibrant yellow-green blades  look backlit even without benefit of sunlight - so you can imagine what a little sun can do.  Here is where the Distylium comes in. I knew this plant would have small, fringey, wine-red flowers. 


What came as a surprise and a delight was the new growth.  The mature leaves are dark green with a blue cast, but the new growth is a peachy green.  The peachy-ness talks with the new leaves of the Peony and the green-ness makes the Hackonecloa sparkle even more. This is happening while those dark red flowers I mentioned bring out the red-pink staining in the Peony's stems. I could add, just to really go over the top, that the little calyxes left over from the Hamamelis blooms are the same red as the Distylium bloom. 

The overall effect is of the opaque darkness of soil and leaf shot through with brilliant flecks of bright sunlit green. In this combination of plants I have all that I love about spring.  If only I could say it was on purpose. I did go on to add the Euphorbia 'Efanthia' with its deep purple-red leaves and chartruese flowers when I discovered all this wonderful color play.  I am hoping it gets enough sun under there to amount to something.  Then the show will really be worth the long winter wait.


Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Spring and a Beginning



                                   
Spring is officially here. In fact, the vernal equinox was a couple of weeks ago, but Portland being Portland, the weather is wet, cold and grey. Right now I can hear water dripping and sluicing its way down from my roof to the muddy garden below. We have had a couple of teaser days though. Days when the sun shone and the crocuses opened their cups up to catch the warmth. On those days the urge to get out into the spring-time garden is strong. Hesitation, or in my case the thought that I'll get out there tomorrow, has been rewarded with cold and more wet. The sunshine and warm air has been fleeting this year. After a winter that broke records for days of snow on the ground, spring when it really does come, will be a balm and a relief. It will certainly be an invitation to get out in the garden.

This first post is also an invitation. To join me here at PLOT while I write and wonder about gardens, gardening, landscape and design.  This blog is still very much under construction - but I have big plans. 

photo: Ribes x gordonianum waiting for the sun to shine in my back garden, April 2009